


All The Things That Never Happened

by literati42



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi, Multiple Realities, Romance, Trippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29593746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literati42/pseuds/literati42
Summary: A different take on 2x06A concussion sends Malcolm spinning through a whole lot of lives he could have lived
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright/Edrisa Tanaka, Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright/Nico Stavros, Malcolm Bright/Vijay Chandasara
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	All The Things That Never Happened

**Author's Note:**

> Super huge big thanks to my forever beta, Tess_genor
> 
> I absolutely cannot overstate how excited I am for people to read this fic! 
> 
> And if you want to keep the party going, come join me on twitter @themythofpsyche

Bright felt the collision. Felt his body hit the ground, his head slamming hard. He felt one split second of rocketing pain and then he felt nothing at all.

_-_-_

The pain came back first and it came back hard. “Bright, hey, hey, it’s ok. You’re out.” His eyes fluttered open to find JT leaning over him, his face full of worry. He saw JT’s hand on his shoulder, holding him to the bed. The hospital bed, Bright realized. “You gave us a scare, Mal.”

“Someone tried to kill me,” Bright said, closing his eyes. The pain was intense, but he could feel the medicine trying to fight it back. He fluttered his eyes open. “They didn’t give me a sedative.”

JT frowned, “I didn’t let them.”

Bright smiled, “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered, you get hurt every five seconds. Not our first time here, Mal.”

Bright smiled, then cringed at the pain. He felt the world fading in and out for him.

Then he opened his eyes and he was walking down the hallway of the hospital with JT at his arm. “They let me out?”

JT frowned, “Yes,” he said it slowly, furrowing his brow. “You were there when the doctor said it…where else would we be going?” The detective stopped, “Maybe we should go back.”

“No, no, I just got disoriented,” Bright replied, “We can go. We should go.” Bright forced a smile, “I’d really just like to be in my own bed. Not that I actually sleep in it.”

JT frowned, “Yeah, you’re not acting weird at all.” But Bright saw in his eyes he was relenting. Then JT tugged at Bright’s collar. “There’s blood on you.”

Bright quirked his mouth slightly. That gesture felt oddly familiar for the reserved detective. “I’m not the only one acting weird.”

“What does that mean?” JT asked, pressing the elevator button. Bright took a step back, his heart hammering.

_ Falling. Crashing into the ground. Light filtering down. _

Bright rubbed his head, his ears suddenly ringing. “The stairs,” he forced out. JT turned around, and his hand was on Bright’s arm.

“We should go back to the doctor.”

“I just don’t want to go down the damn elevator!” Bright snapped, cringing as his own voice hurt his head. JT stepped a little closer.

“Ok, ok, just lean on me before your skinny ass hits the stairs, Mal.”

Bright followed his guide down the stairs, feeling lightheaded. JT got him into the car and Bright felt disconnected, like he wasn’t quite there. He sunk into the passenger seat and rested his forehead against the glass. He felt like he was slipping out of consciousness again.

Just as his vision got dark, he realized that JT kept calling him “Mal.”

“You never call me Mal,” he said, just as he faded out.

_-_-_

_ The light from above looked like flickering stars hanging over him. He was cold. So cold, and the pain was intense. He felt it shooting through his back, rocketing through his head. Everything was pain. _

Bright sat upright, gasping in a breath. He blinked. Not the hospital, no he had left the hospital with JT. Had JT taken him home and got him into bed without him waking up? JT, who suddenly called him Mal and tugged at his collar with familiarity.

It did not make sense.

Bright squeezed the covers of the bed, trying to ground himself. The plush softness of it helped him focus back on where he was. Then he stilled. His covers were not anything like plush. He ran his fingers up and down the covers in the dark. This was not his bed, not his high thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. He reached for the light and realized the side of the bed was a lot closer than he expected it to be. He fell on the floor with a thud.

Pain. Pain in his head.

“Oh my! Bright!”

“Ed…Edrisa?” Bright asked into the darkness. A light came on and suddenly he was looking at Edrisa’s bare legs. She kneeled down in front of him, a man’s long sleeve shirt the only thing she was wearing, her hair mussed from sleep. She did not have her glasses on. Bright realized he had never seen her without her glasses.

He had never seen her legs either, he realized.

“Did the concussion disorient you?” she asked, helping him up. As he struggled to get himself steady enough to help her guide him up, he found himself with his arm around the woman. “You’re wearing my shirt…” he said out loud as he realized it.

And nothing else, the thought kept popping up in his head.

Edrisa smiled, “You don’t mind do you?” She hugged him tighter, “I like wearing them, they smell like you. Of course, I don’t need a shirt that smells like you when I have you here smelling like you, but I love wearing it when you don’t spend the night and I’ve gotten into the habit I guess.”

“I’m spending the night?” Bright asked, he felt twelve steps behind her. She looked up at him.

“Of course silly,” she slapped his chest gently, “I wasn’t going to let you stay at your place alone with a concussion! I may usually work with dead bodies but even a medical examiner knows better than that. You could get disoriented in the night and fall…which I guess you did. See, it was a good thing.” She helped him to the bed. Bright half fell, half sat on the edge of it, putting his head in his hands.

“None of this makes sense.”

He felt the bed shift as she sat down beside him. “You’re feeling disoriented? Confused? Are you having double vision? Memory problems? Pain?”

“Stop,” Bright lifted his head and took her hands, holding them between them. He met her eyes. “Everything feels unreal…”

Edrisa considered that, “It’s not an unusual symptom.” She considered him a moment. “Come here.” Edrisa scooted back on the bed until her back was against the headboard and beckoned for him. Malcolm laid down, resting his head in her lap like it as the most normal thing, and in that moment it felt normal. He looked up at her and Edrisa returned his gaze, her eyes full of love. She gently stroked his hair and the disorientation began to fade.

He loved this beautiful, brilliant, funny woman with his whole heart. He loved the way she startled him with facts, how they could get excited together. He loved her, so completely. “Edrisa,” he said.

“Just rest, Bright,” she said. Edrisa leaned down and kissed him and everything was right. His life felt completely right.

_-_-_

_ It was hard to breathe. Shocks of pain radiated from his ribs and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. _

Bright opened his eyes wondering when he had fallen asleep. “Edrisa?” he asked.

“It’s pronounced  _ Ainsley _ ,” his sister’s voice said. Bright opened his eyes. He was laying on the couch in his family home. Ainsley was putting on lipstick, startling red lipstick that looked a bit too much like blood splattered on her skin. He frowned, why would he think of blood on Ainsley? What did Ainsley have to do with blood? “Why are you waking out of a dream talking about my fiancé anyway? Should I be getting jealous?” She turned to him, putting a hand on her hip, eyebrow raised. Right, of course. Ainsley met Edrisa in med school, but lost touch after that. They met again when Malcolm started working for the police department. Why had that slipped from his mind a moment.

“My head is just…off,” Malcolm said, sitting up, rubbing his forehead.

“Well, pummeling down an elevator shaft will do that. Honestly, brother, do you think you’re a Baudelaire orphan?” She walked over and sat down beside him, tilting his head this way and that. “Honestly, you do look a little pale.”

“Malcolm, are you looking pale? Your sister think’s you’re looking pale.”

Malcolm’s head jerked up as he saw Martin come over and take the seat at his other side.

“You do look a bit off, son.”

“Does he need to go back to the doctor?” Jessica asked, entering the room, her hand at her throat.

Malcolm’s eyes went to each member of his family. They looked so happy, so healthy. He felt the warmth of it in his chest. His father rested a hand on his back and the warmth of it made something inside his chest loosen. Malcolm suddenly felt like crying, like emotions were pushing at him.

“Son?” Martin asked.

Malcolm hugged his father, holding on too tight. “I missed you.”

“My boy,” Martin said, confusion in his tone. He patted Malcolm’s back, “You saw me earlier today.” Martin pulled him back slightly, trying to catch his eye. “Malcolm, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, and that was what felt wrong. Nothing was wrong, and that was not right. Malcolm stood, taking a few steps back, trying to avoid the three sets of worried eyes. He rubbed at his head. Everything felt wrong, it felt totally wrong. He did not understand.

He took a step back into something solid. Someone solid.

“Mal?”

He turned and JT was there, his arms were there, and Malcolm had walked back into them. He turned around but JT did not let him go, he just stood there, his worried eyes searching Malcolm’s face.

“You ok, Mal?”

“I’m glad you’re here, JT,” Jessica said, “He’s…”

“I…nothing makes sense,” Malcolm said. “My head, the pain.” He touched his chest and realized there was pain radiating there.

JT pulled Malcolm’s hand away from his chest, “You broke some ribs. Surprising your crazy ass didn’t break more, going after the murderer like that. You didn’t even call for back up.”

“Yeah, Gil will get on me for that.”

“Who’s Gil?”

It felt like the world was splitting inside him. Malcolm’s mind struggled to find purchase, to find something that felt steady. Who  _ was  _ Gil? Then he was slipping. He heard JT and his family calling for him.

_-_-_

_ Bright tilted his head to the side and the pain shot through him. He stared into the empty sockets of a skull. Then the dizziness sent the world spinning. _

“Gil…”

“Mmm?”

Bright blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of anything. He was held in warm arms, he was safe. The dizziness and disorientation were fading back into the recesses of his mind. He was warm here.

A sound of a train going by close outside dragged him further awake.

“Your head bothering you?”

A hand cupped the back of his neck.

“Gil?”

The man sat up, reaching across him to turn on a light. “Yes?”

Malcolm looked at the man in front of him and frowned, trying to make his vision clear entirely. “I had a dream…I was surrounded by my family.”

Gil gave an understanding grunt, pulling him into a warm embrace. “They aren’t here, Bright. They aren’t anywhere near you.”

Bright settled into the muscular arms. “No, I haven’t seen them in years.”

Why had the he dreamed of them again? He wondered. It had been so long since his father tried to attack him at Claremont when he told Martin he was leaving Harvard for Quantico.

He still had the scar on his chin from that day.

Bright stood up out of the bed and walked across the apartment. It was small, but they got by. It was all they needed. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. It was the seventh—eighth?—tiny apartment he had lived in since he and Gil went on the run to escape his family.

The day he left it all behind, and Gil had been there to help him pick up the pieces.

He heard his partner’s footsteps coming across the floor behind him, felt the warm arms wrap around him. Bright cuddled into the embrace and Gil laid his chin on his shoulder. “Where is your mind tonight, Bright? Still thinking about the Whitly’s?”

Bright felt his hand shake, but Gil only hugged him tighter and Bright let the embrace ground him to the moment. “Maybe it was being in the hospital today…” He hesitated, “For my head…why…how did I hurt my head?”

“You fell down an elevator shaft,” Gil said, his soft baritone voice a rumble of concern.

“Because I was…”

“That was where the dance rehearsal was. Are you okay, Bright?”

Bright nodded, “Yes, yes, just this feeling that everything is unreal…dance rehearsal. Of course.” Bright was working long hours practicing, getting ready for opening night. Ready with each movement of his body. He wondered how he would have survived over the years without ballet? It helped strengthen him, helped him channel his constantly racing mind and leave behind the past.

Leave everything behind the day Gil looked him in the eyes and asked if he wanted to escape the Whitly curse.

“And the elevator malfunctioned,” Bright said, “If I wasn’t so tired from practice I could have stopped myself but I fell…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Gil said, into his shoulder. Bright leaned back into the touch.

“Then I dreamed about my family, but it was different. They were happy.”

Gil released him and he immediately felt the loss of warmth. The older man came around until he was facing Bright and cupped the back of his neck. “Bright…”

“I know, it wasn’t real,” Bright said, “It’s just this headache…” He rubbed the side of his face and a wave of nauseating pain rolled over him. Then he fell and Gil’s arms were the only thing holding him up.

_-_-_

_ The sound of gears grinding as something mechanical moved sounded beside him. He wanted to move his head again to look, but his head hurt. His neck screamed in pain. _

Malcolm rubbed his neck, trying to work the kink out of it.

“You good, Bright?”

Soft hands began massaging at the tight part of his neck. He let out a sigh and leaned into the touch. He opened his eyes to see the beautiful green forest around him, then turned his head to find Dani smiling at him. “Your muscles still sore?”

“From the fall?” Bright replied, “Yeah…yeah a bit. That’s why we left the city right?”

Dani did that thing that he loved where she furrowed her brow. “I don’t think we left the city because of broken elevators. Really, never happened even once while we lived in the city, but you visit your family for five seconds and fall down an elevator shaft.”

Bright smiled despite himself, “It was good to see them though.”

“It was,” Dani replied, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling in.

“They love you.”

“Mmm,” she replied, looking up at him, “I love them too. Ainsley has finally stopped trying to trick me into admitting any deep dark secrets I may have and your mother stopped asking if I was wearing what I was wearing out to dinner.”

“They are terrible,” he said, but it was fond.

“Not at all, and Gil makes them better.”

“He does,” Bright replied.

“Do you miss it?” she asked, cuddling into his shirt.

“The city?”

“The murders?”

Bright tightened his arms around her. He remembered the moment, standing on the ledge talking down a suspect, nearly falling. He remembered coming inside and Dani storming away. She looked him in the eyes and said she could not watch him risk his life anymore. She asked him to leave it all behind. To leave it all behind for her.

And Bright said yes.

“Not for a single second.”

Dani leaned up, kissing the underside of his neck and Bright closed his eyes.

_-_-_

_ He could feel something warm and wet on his forehead. It smelled of copper in the air. Blood. Smell was the strongest sense memory and Bright had smelled a lot of blood in his life. _

“I promise I will bring your son to the function on time after our night of debauchery, Jessica!” Vijay called to her across Bright’s apartment. He grabbed Bright by the tie and tugged him toward the door.

“Vijay!”

“Oh hush, baby boy,” Vijay replied, “You know your mother adores me.”

Bright rolled his eyes, “She always envisioned me ending up with someone like you.”

“I know it,” Vijay replied. He finally released Malcolm’s tie and the profiler immediately began fixing it. “It almost kept us from getting together. You doing what your mother wanted? Major hurdle.” He leaned over and kissed the corner of Malcolm’s mouth. Malcolm grabbed him, snuggling into his arms. Vijay laughed. “What’s this? Maybe we should skip dinner and just go back to my place…”

“I’m just happy,” Bright said, burying his face in Vijay’s shirt. “I just never thought I could have this.”

“Don’t go getting maudlin on me, baby boy,” he said. Vijay pushed Malcolm against the wall, “You already have me. Don’t cry about it.” Vijay kissed him, deepening it. They had been friends so long it seemed nature to slide into love after they met each other again on the case. Vijay knew him when he was young, knew him at his worst, and never judged him. Not for one minute.

“What am I going to do without you?” Bright asked.

Vijay frowned, “When are you planning to be without me?”

It was a moment, just a fraction, but a wave of disorientation went across him. Bright frowned, “I…I don’t know what I meant.”

“Oh Mal, drunk on my kisses already?” Vijay asked. “Come on, let’s get you actually drunk first.” Vijay grabbed his hand and began dragging him down the street.

_-_-_

_ The sound was getting louder, it hurt his head. He wanted to scream for it to shut up, but he could not get the breath to scream. _

Bright opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but his brace tugged at his arm, stopping him. He frowned. The brace did not feel right. He turned and frowned. Rope?

“You’re awake!”

Bright’s eyes went over to the man standing there dressed only in boxers, two plates of steaming food in his hands. “Nico Stavros?”

The man raised an eyebrow, “Yes, it is totally normal for my boyfriend to call me by my full name like we are in an interrogation room. Dream about being a detective again did you?”

“I…I feel like I’ve been having a lot of dreams,” Bright replied. Nico came over and sat down.

“Oh, you’re still tied up,” Nico said, reaching up an untying the rope.

“I’m still…” Bright looked at his arm and suddenly the reason for rope became clear. “Oh.”

“Bright?”

“Did I hit my head last night? Because I have the weirdest feeling…” Bright said.

Nico put the plate of scrambled eggs in his lap. “I don’t think it was quite that rough.”

It was a joke, and Bright knew he should laugh, but he did not laugh. He felt pretty certain he had hit his head. Bright leaned over and touched Nico’s arm.

“Your scar…”

Nico raised an eyebrow, “My what?”

“On your arm…where I…”

Nico was staring at him, the face of perfect confusion, “Where you what? I mean, your kisses do a lot of things but they don’t exactly scar.”

“This isn’t real,” Bright said and suddenly the disorienting feeling let go to a wave of sadness. He put aside the eggs and stood. The dreams. JT. Edrisa. His Family. Gil. Dani. Vijay. Now Nico. The images started to float back to him. He felt waves of sickness rolling through him.

“Bright?”

“You’re not real.”

“Is that so bad?” Nico asked.

Bright looked up at him.

“What was it that needs changed?” Nico asked, and suddenly his arm had the scar where Bright had cut it off and it was reattached. “Does it feel more real now?”

“You know you’re not real?” Bright asked.

“I don’t know anything,” Nico replied like he was explaining to a child, “ _ You _ know I’m not real. That’s what matters.” Nico walked over to him, taking Bright’s face in his hands. “Which reality do you want?”

“The real one, Nico.”

Nico looked at him as if he saw through him, “No you don’t. If you wanted to wake up, you would, Bright.”

“I want to wake up,” Bright replied. He closed his eyes and opened them, but Nico stood there still.

“You don’t have to.” Nico offered his hand, “Stay.”

“I’ll die.”

“Are you sure you aren’t dead already?”

Bright closed his eyes. The pain was fading. Maybe…he shook his head and felt the pain of it. This was not real.

It was not real.

_-_-_

_ The elevator shaft, the elevator was moving. Bright could see it through the haze of pain. He held on for a second longer, then reality slipped from between his fingers again. _

Bright felt a finger poke his cheek. “Wake up, silly!” Edrisa’s smile was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.

“I had the worst dream,” He replied, sitting up. She was already dressed in a light blue sun dress with daisies on it. He smiled at her.

“You’re beautiful.”

She ducked her face slightly at the compliment, and then looked his way, “You’re not so bad yourself, which is good because we have to go.”

“Of course,” he stood, feeling shaky. He dressed slowly, fingers struggling with the buttons of his shirt for a moment. When he turned back, Edrisa was fully ready.

“I can’t believe we get to speak to Professor Jenkins together,” she said, “His theories were riveting! I’m so glad your father introduced us to him!”

“Yes…yes,” Bright replied, furrowing his brow. For a second he thought he remembered the image of a man, standing in front of him holding plates of eggs, but just as quickly the memory was gone and there was only Edrisa, reaching out her hand. He took it and then she wrapped her arm through his, until they were completely joined together as they walked.

“I love you, Bright,” Edrisa said against his arm as they left her apartment and walked together down the city street. The sunlight seemed magical that day. It was wonderful, but her words kept bumping up against something in his mind.

“My father introduced us to him…”

“Yes, of course he did,” Edrisa replied.

“Then why did I change my name to Bright?” he asked into the air, and with the question he knew.

Edrisa was frowning up at him. She was beautiful. Had he ever noticed how beautiful she was before? He certainly had not rewarded all the attention she gave him, but she kept caring for him. She tried to draw him out of himself, out of his work. Tried to

“Edrisa,” he said, “I think I could be happy with you forever.” He meant it.

She stopped, looking up at him, “What are you saying, Bright?”

He touched her cheek, “You’re not real.”

_-_-_

_ He could keep his eyes open this time. He could. He could. He…could… _

“We have to go.”

“Edrisa, I already…” Bright stopped as the voice registered. He opened his eyes to find Gil standing in front of him holding a bag.

“Edrisa is a new one,” He said, then, “Get dressed we have to go.”

Bright got up quickly, pulling on clothes as he watched Gil grabbing things from around the apartment and shoving them in a bag. “He caught up with us?”

Gil gave a tight nod.

Bright stopped in the center of the room in the middle of getting dressed, one sock on and one off. “Where are we running to this time?”

Gil dropped the duffle bag and came to his side, cupping the back of his neck. “I know your performance was tonight.”

Bright shook his head, “That doesn’t matter.”

“We’ll find somewhere with a dance studio.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bright said again. Gil squeezed the back of his neck, “It doesn’t matter if we’re together.” Gil tilted his head up, kissing him deeply. Bright leaned into the kiss, then his eyes opened slightly. “You…you aren’t real.”

He took a step away from the man, feeling like he pulled his heart out of his chest as he did. 

“I love you,” Bright said.

“Bright, no,” Gil said, “Stay with me. Bright…”

_-_-_

_ The light coming through the holes above him burned his eyes but he tried so hard to keep them open… _

Dani sat with one foot in the stream, her head tilted back so that the sun bathed her face. She was so beautiful there, dressed in white. Malcolm sat down beside her and drew her into his arms, kissing her neck. “We should get married.”

Her eyes opened and she smiled, “That didn’t sound like a question.”

“Will you marry me, Dani Powell?”

“You’ll stay with me forever, Malcolm Bright?”

The smile fell from his face. He heard a baritone voice—Gil?—at the back of his mind asking him to stay in a small apartment with a train going by. Then it was gone and she was staring at him, waiting for his answer.

“I can’t.”

_-_-_

_ He was awake. Awake, he could feel it. He could feel everything. Everything. The pain was so profound, the pain was coming back to him. He wanted to scream. The darkness came back instead. _

“You scared the shit out of everyone,” JT said, “Fainting at family dinner. I know your mother has threatened to do that a few times, but leave it to you to actually do it.”

Bright opened his eyes to find JT looking at him. He was back on the family couch, with his feet in JT’s lap.

“Why…why are you here?”

“Weird way to greet your husband,” JT said, “We shouldn’t have left the hospital.”

“Husband…” Bright said. He slowly lifted his hand and saw the silver band on his finger.

“Okay,” JT said, drawing out the syllables of the word. “I don’t remember a symptom of your concussion being perpetually surprised.”

Bright sat up, grabbing JT’s arm. “Do you love me?”

“Ok…now you are weirding me out.”

Bright shook his head, he felt tears in his eyes. “You’re not real either.”

JT touched his cheek, “Mal…”

“You’ve never called me Mal. You’ve never touched my face or told me you loved me. Never. None of this has ever happened.” He felt like he was reaching inside his own chest and pulling out his heart while it still beat. “I wish…I wish this was real.”

_-_-_

_ His chest hurt. It hurt, it hurt so badly from the fall but not just from the fall. He did not want to open his eyes. He did not want to come back. The pain of it ripped at his chest. _

__ __ Bright was back in his apartment. He rubbed at his eyes and felt emotion pushing at the corners of his chest. He leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He pushed the heel of his hand into his eyes and let out a broken sob.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he did not look up. It did not matter if it was Dani, JT, Gil, Vijay or Edrisa. None of it was real.

“You’ve figured it out,” said the man at his shoulder. He cracked an eye open to see Nico.

“You make the least sense of anyone,” Bright said, “I don’t even know you.”

Nico shrugged, “I represent an unknown quantity. Someone connected to your life, to the worst parts inside you, but you don’t know me.” He waved a hand, “I’m a possibility.” Then the man smirked, “Plus, you know I’m hot.”

Bright bounced his head off the wall. It did not send him into a different dream. It did not wake him up. He was still here. Nico sat beside him and stretched out one leg, leaning his arm on the knee of the other.

“You’re going to let yourself die, sobbing in a hallucination.”

“That is the shape of it,” Bright replied, groaning. He pushed his hand harder against his eye. Then he looked over at the man. “Nico?” Bright said, “Why have you become the voice of my voice of reason?”

Nico considered him, “I don’t know. You cut a guy’s arm off one time and they tend to get stuck in the subconscious.”

Bright leaned his head back against the wall. “I have to go back, Nico.”

“You don’t want to.”

“You think I’d rather die?” Bright lifted his head to look at Nico and saw the other man returning his gaze with a soft one of his own.

“Sometimes you act like you would,” Nico replied. He leaned his head back on the wall as well and tilted it to look at Bright. “You’ll be alone there, Bright.”

Bright felt a sting of tears. “I know.”

“You’ll go back to hiding secrets and always feeling torn by your family.”

“I know.”

“To sleepless nights, and nightmares, and popping pills.”

The tears burned Bright’s vision. “I know.” He forced his eyes up and found Nico still studying him. “Why did you show me this? Knowing I couldn’t have it.”

“I didn’t show you anything,” Nico replied, “You did. Your mind knows what it wants.”

Bright laughed, “My mind showed me six different scenarios.”

“You are a good profiler but you must be a horrible student,” Nico replied, “It’s not about the specifics.”

“Oh, so my mind thinks I need to find love to be happy? My brain is a quiz in Cosmo.”

Nico rolled his eyes, “It can’t just be murders, Bright.” The profiler looked at him. “The solving and the covering up and the talking about. It can’t be everything, Bright.”

“Why not, Nico?”

The man reached over and touched his cheek. “Because that will never be enough to get out of this elevator shaft.”

“And the power of love will save me?” Bright asked, “I don’t remember my subconscious being this corny.”

“I would say I don’t remember you being this insufferable but we didn’t do much talking when you cut off my arm,” Nico replied.

“You’re not okay.”

Bright looked over but Nico was gone, and Gil sat there in his place. He rested his hand on Bright’s shoulder. 

“You’re not okay, Bright, and it started before the elevator.” He watched the world shift in front of him and it was Dani beside him.

“I want to believe you, Bright, but you’re not good, Bright.”

She was gone then, and it was Edrisa there. She wove her arm through his and rested her chin on his shoulder. “You’re so smart, Bright. You’ll figure it out. You’re always right, right?”

Then JT was with him, “Get up. Get your crazy ass up.”

“I can’t,” Bright replied.

“A lot of can’t do attitude coming from you, Bright boy,” now it was Vijay. He stood up. “Come on, Bright. Get up.”

Then it was Gil again, reaching his hand down to Bright. “You got to go.”

_-_-_

Bright forced his eyes open. The elevator was approaching fast, the gears grinding together. The smell of blood was in the air, every part of his body screamed in pain, and he was alone.

For a second he almost closed his eyes again.

For a moment he almost let go.

For a moment, Bright almost gave up.

In one motion, he rolled over and grabbed a bone, sticking it in the gears. It was a long shot, a rash decision, a grab-the-axe-and-cut-the-arm gambit if you will, but it worked. The gears shifted to a halt and the elevator stopped.

Bright staggered, the pain almost too much, but he crawled out, ignoring the screaming in his body, with a skull in his hand. He stumbled out into the lobby as Dani and JT got there, as his back up got there. He smiled at them, the ghosts of could-have-beens in his mind, and he fell to his knees. The shock of his knees hitting the floor sent black spots spinning across his vision and he fell the rest of the way to the floor.

He felt Dani’s hands on his arm, JT’s on his back before his vision went out again.

_-_-_

They made him go to the hospital and the hospital made him stay in the hospital longer than he would like, but apparently Dani was not taking chances when it came to head trauma and JT threatened to call his mother if he did not at least get it checked.

Then there was a case to solve. A case, it turned out, he found easy enough to solve with the skull he had carried out of the shaft with him.

But they were done and Bright was supposed to go home and rest. To an empty apartment. There would be no one to hold him in the night, no one to banter with, no one to make him laugh, no one to run away with.

There would only be murder. There was only ever murder. The solving and the thinking about and the covering up. Murder and lies.

Bright stopped where he stood, the images from his hallucinations running through his mind. He knew what he needed, who he needed to talk to. Bright turned, switching his direction. He put his hands in his pockets to keep away the cold.

He had someone he needed to talk to, someone he needed to tell the truth. About Endicott, about Ainsley. About everything. 

If the elevator shaft taught him anything, it was that Malcolm Bright could not go on alone anymore.


End file.
